Fates Entwined
by Kiyumie
Summary: Being shot in the head may cause certain difficulties, most prominent of which being death. However, Alicia has somehow cheated it, albeit losing all memories from before taking the job to transport the Platinum chip. With nothing but revenge and a plethora of questions to drive her, how will she fair when she happens across a certain someone who joins her on her journey?


**Note: Alrighty, I've been wanting to do one of these for a while now and I kept procrastinating it before, but a certain special someone motivated me to write it. I've been playing a lot of fallout lately to get ideas for it but this is an early warning. This story will probably not be very lore-friendly, nothing crazy like the USMC having its own faction or anything like that, but weapons wise and story wise, it will be heavily influenced by the mods I use when I play. The story still mostly follows the New Vegas plotline but I've changed a lot of the canon to tell my own story so consider this a new spin on a story we already know and love. If any of these points displease you, then I don't think this is the fanfic for you. Now, for those of you still here, enjoy my first chapter. ^.^ It's a short one just to get the ball rolling.**

Chapter 1

**Alicia**

_The game was rigged from the start._

The last words imparted to me by my would-be killer echoed through my mind as I slowly walked down the slope from Doc Mitchell's town towards the town, taking care not to let the disorientation from my headache and the sudden change of lighting make me lose my footing. Raising my hand up, I looked up to the clear blue sky through the gaps between my fingers. It was a wonder how something so beautiful could exist in such an ugly world.

The old dusty Vault 21 jumpsuit I now wore itched in all the wrong places and was too tight in others. It beat walking around town naked, I guessed, but I found myself craving the clothes that I had worn before I was shot. I shuddered at the memory, my hand instinctively hanging near the .45 1911 that was strapped to my waist. The piece was ornamental and engraved with numerous intricate designs, however I could not remember anything past taking the job that had almost gotten me killed, therefore I could not remember where I had gotten it.

Exhaling sharply, I slowly calmed myself, instead shifting my mind to the bottle caps and stimpacks in my pocket. I found that I had only 18 caps left, nowhere near enough to buy anything resembling substantial supplies. I thought about the woman that Doc Mitchell had mentioned, Sunny Smiles, who usually haunted the saloon. Figuring that there was no better place to start looking for work, I made my way to the far building with the big sign, "Prospector Saloon".

The first thing that greeted me as I pushed the door open was a grey slobbering mass of mutt barking in my face, causing me to gasp in surprise and almost pull my gun, before a firm female voice commanded it to stay.

"Cheyenne, stay." The orange haired Hispanic young woman standing in front of me was about the same height as me and was clad in a jacket and pants made from firm leather. An old bolt action rifle was slung on her back as she turned from her large dog to look at me with a warm reassuring smile.

"Don't worry, she doesn't bite unless I tell her to. I'm Sunny Smiles."

"Urm, right, if you say so…" I eyed the dog cautiously, not entirely convinced despite its now docile demeanor.

"Doc Mitchell mentioned you. You wouldn't happen to have any work around would you?" Sunny placed her finger to her chin as she thought about it, before replying.

"There is actually something you could help me with. Geckos have been swarming the wells again. It's my job to clear them out with Cheyenne here, but it'd be a lot easier with a second gun. It'd be worth some caps to me if you come with."

My heart skipped a beat at the thought of being able to shoot something and I wondered if I was always this violent or it was just pent up anger that would logically come with getting shot in the head. Still, to avoid seeming like a mass murdering psychopath which I could have been before for all I know, I played it off nonchalantly.

"Well, not like I have anything else to do."

"Great! Here, take this so you don't have to go hunting with just a sidearm."

She pulled a second rifle, identical to the one on her back from under the pool table sitting in the middle of the room before handing it to me along with a few spare magazines.

"This thing fires 5.56mm rounds bolt action out of a 5 round magazine. Not exactly something I'd storm a Legion base with but it'll deal with the critters just nicely."

Taking the rifle from her, I slapped in a magazine and pulled the bolt back to chamber a round and was surprised at how fluid and familiar it felt to me, like I'd been doing it my whole life. Then again, this was the wasteland, weapon handling was now what had been preschool in the old world. We left the saloon and headed down the road towards a rocky hill cropping, Cheyenne seeming a lot more cheerful now that she was out and about and I found myself taking a liking to her.

As the first well came into sight, I started hearing a throaty sound; I knew right away that it was the Geckos although I couldn't see them. They must have been behind the bushes by the well.

"Hear that?"

I simply nodded and raised my rifle as we both crouched and quietly snuck up on the overgrown lizards. One of them must have seen or heard us because we were only halfway up the slope when we heard a sharp cry and 3 purple skinned geckos lunged out of the bushes and charged at us, mouths wide open. Sunny opened up first, her shots going wide. The geckos moved quick and were not easy to hit despite running straight at us. As I looked down the sight, the same sense of familiarity washed over me and time seemingly slowed to a crawl. Even though I didn't know what they were, I knew I'd hit targets far more difficult than this and this was child's play. I fired 2 shots, the first catching the lead gecko in the neck and the second right between its eyes. I quickly shifted my aim and fired 3 more rounds, each catching the rear gecko, twice in its chest and the last in its eye. Sunny managed to take down the last one before handing me a bit more ammo just in case.

We proceeded to clear out another well easily enough before coming to the last one when we heard a scream for help. Sunny and I exchanged looks before dashing towards it and we saw a townswoman standing atop the well and desperately kicking against 4 geckos who were hungrily reaching for her and trying to tear her to pieces.

"Sick em, Cheyenne!"

The large dog turned from friendly companion to a savage predator as she growled and pounced one of the geckos, tearing it from the well and tossing it to the floor. Before it could recover, she jumped on it again, her sharp fangs tearing chunks of its flesh out as it squealed in pain before she tore its throat out. Meanwhile, Sunny and I opened fire on the rest of the geckos, which unlike before were sitting ducks by the well, and we dispatched them easily.

The townswoman, introducing herself as Glenda, thanked us on the verge of tears, and I smiled awkwardly at her telling her it was alright.

"Holy moly! If you two hadn't come along, I'd be gecko food for sure! Here, take these as a thanks from me."

She handed me 3 freshly filled bottles of purified water and I was suddenly aware of how thirsty I was as I felt my lips part and I swallowed, my throat hurting from how dry it was. Of course I was thirsty, I'd been in a coma for 3 days and obviously hadn't had much to drink. I immediately tore open the cap on one of the bottles and greedily gulped down its contents.

_Oh sweet nectar of the gods. _

I tossed another bottle at Sunny who caught it and thanked me before pocketing the last bottle. She thanked me for my help and gave me 100 caps for my efforts before telling me to go back to the saloon and talk to the bartender, Trudy. I went on ahead as she stayed to collect some of the geckos' meat and I felt much better after that workout than I did when I first stepped into the sun. It felt great to be back in the saddle.

**Nikki**

I pulled the hood of my black jacket down lower so it covered more of my face, even though my snow-white hair already covered almost half of it. Pale skin was extremely rare in the sun-covered wastelands, that was something everywhere had in common and I didn't want to draw attention. I heard gunfire up the rocky hill but paid it no attention as I walked down the road towards the small town, Goodsprings, as the sign by the road called it. Usually, I wouldn't pay such a backwater settlement, even by wasteland standards, any attention but it'd been the first town I'd seen since I entered the Mojave and I was low on supplies. Besides, resting for a day or two didn't sound so bad. It wasn't like I had a timeline to meet. No, that was all in the past.

I sighed and felt a pang in my chest as the memories threatened to surface so I opened the zip of my duffel bag before running my fingers across all my weapons as I walked. It was a calming ritual, I'd always loved guns ever since I was a little girl and they always made me feel better. Guns were so much more reliable than people.

I zipped it back up and moved my shoulder so the sling on _Xuanlong_ was back in place. I made a mental plan in my head, something I'd picked up over the years because I never used to be much of a planner. That was Amanda's forte. I gulped at the thought of my sister and pushed her out of my head. I was not going to break down in the middle of a foreign town in the wild west. I figured I'd get a drink and something to eat at the saloon that was in front of me before asking around if there was lodging and anywhere to buy supplies.

The bartender was a friendly looking middle-aged woman named Trudy, who poured me a pine of whiskey with a bottle of purified water to go with it. There was no avoiding showing my face along with the abnormalities that were my white hair and pale skin when I ordered but she didn't seem to be bothered and simply acted as what I thought would be her normal routine.

"Don't see many travellers around these parts anymore, not with the I15 being what it is now."

"I15?" I asked, curious despite my usual less than social nature.

"The long highway that passes by here. I hear its swarming with all kinds of nasty critters."

"Ah, yeah, I noticed." I shuddered at the memory of walking straight into that Deathclaw nest. I'd entered the Mojave over a canyon to the north, from NCR territory. Over the years I'd travelled cross country and along coastlines until I found myself on the west. I turned my attention back to my drink, not exactly keen on conversation and I let the alcohol burn my throat, taking relief in the sudden swimminess in my head as I rested my head on the table. I absently heard the door open before hearing the sound of boots against wood but paid no attention as I continued to drown myself in alcohol. Whoever had entered started shouting at Trudy who was struggling to maintain her calm disposition and I tried my best to drown them out but my head simply started to hurt as I heard the door open again.

"If you don't hand Ringo over soon, I'm gonna get my friends and we're gonna burn this stinking shithole to the ground, you hear me, bitch?" Unable to take it anymore, in part due to my bad temper and probably in part due to the whiskey, I snapped back without even looking at the guy.

"Will you shut the hell up, shitstain? You're making my head hurt."

"The fuck you say to me, whore?" Without warning I felt a fist connect with the back of my head, shooting it forward. It wasn't a particularly strong punch, just enough to shove my head forward without even hurting much but it also made me send my glass of whiskey over the tabletop and onto the floor. You might have expected me to be enraged, which I was in a way I guess, but a small smile crept across my lips as I felt my hand drop to my waist.

_Thanks for the excuse, dumbass._

In a single lightning fast motion, I pulled a large serrated combat out of its sheath just above my butt, spun around and sank it straight into the man's neck. No one even had time to react, it was done in half a second. He didn't even realize he'd been stabbed for about a second, his expression confused before his eyes widened and his mouth gaped open like a fish. Funny how the moment I killed him was the first look I got of him. He was dark skinned and wore a bulletproof vest over a blue uniform of some sort that read NCRCF. I smiled sweetly at him as he took his last breath and moved my lips to his ear.

"That's for my drink, asshole."

I tore the knife out and his blood sprayed across the room, right onto the vault jumpsuit of a woman who had just entered and was gaping at the sight, both horror and awe in her surprisingly beautiful grey eyes. The man who I stabbed was dead before he hit the floor as I wiped my knife against my sleeve nonchalantly. I turned back to Trudy who had a terrified expression on her face. She looked at me and I simply shrugged, acting as though nothing had happened. No one fucked with the Lone Wanderer.


End file.
